


When in Skyrim...

by Ambitious_Rubbish



Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, Gen, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambitious_Rubbish/pseuds/Ambitious_Rubbish
Summary: Those Nord customs and traditions sure are tricky to get the hang of, aren’t they?Some helpful advice: when in Skyrim, do… well… anything other than this, really.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Ysolda
Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949869
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	When in Skyrim...

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt List: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466580
> 
> Day 1: "Baths"

The door violently flew open. It smacked against the adjacent wall with a loud *Thwack!* and Lydia stormed in. She practically threw her various kit into the nearest corner, stomped her way over to the fireplace, and dumped herself into the chair nearest the merrily crackling fire. “Well, we can never go back to the hot springs,” she said without preamble.

“What? Why?” Ysolda asked from the chair next to her where she’d been quietly reading until this latest outbreak of wholly unnecessary drama.

“You should ask your idiot wife.”

Said “idiot wife” was meekly setting down her own gear, unpacking it and storing the various items in their usual places. Her face was bright red and she steadfastly refused to make eye contact with anyone. “It was an honest mistake!” she protested, though not too ardently.

“If you’re some kind of simpleton!” Lydia’s voice was a near-bellow, she was that angry.

“Will one of you please tell me what’s going on?”

Lydia closed her eyes. She took in a deep breath. She let it out slowly. She inhaled again. Exhaled again. Slow. Steady. Calming. At least it was supposed to be. “We went to the hot springs,” she said, her voice steady, but still with an edge of irritation and resentment to it.

“Yes, I know.”

“And Sidra ruined everything.”

“I… I did not.”

The redheaded Nord turned to face the woman she’d married, but Sidra still refused to meet her eyes. Something in her backpack was apparently far too engrossing for her to bother looking up. “Be a dear and explain this to me, please.”

The former Legionnaire sighed. “Ok, so… I thought I understood how these things worked. I mean, we have similar things in Cyrodiil, you know? You go in, you take all your clothes off-”

“Right.”

“And then they give you this little towel-”

“Right.”

“And then you find a place to sit, or maybe ease yourself into the water. It’s supposed to be relaxing.”

“Right again. So where was the problem?”

“Well, see, I was just sitting there, minding my own business, thinking about maybe going for a little dip. But, well, it really was hot in there – I mean, it’s supposed to be, I understand that. But the steam was just… starting to get a little much, and I noticed everyone was staring at me. And I mean, everyone.”

Ysolda shrugged. “Well, you’re a beautiful woman.”

“Ha!” Lydia broke in with a derisive little laugh.

“I… thank you. But that wasn’t it. I mean, I _thought_ it was. And it was… you know, it was flattering. Sort of. But like I said, the heat was starting to get to me, and, well, you know how they have those buckets of cool water sitting around everywhere?”

“Of course. To cool yourself a little if you feel you’re getting too hot. What about them?”

“Well, I took the little towel I had and I dipped it in one of those buckets, and I put it on my forehead, because, you know, I was starting to feel a little dizzy, and I figured it’d be totally embarrassing to end up passing out. Naked? Surrounded by Nords who think I’m a pathetic milk-drinker – which I still don’t understand why that’s an insult-”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “It’s because only infants drink milk-”

“No, I get that part. Kind of. Other people drink milk. It’s good for you. You eat cheese. Cheese is made from milk. It’s not like that’s all that different-”

Ysolda waved her hands to cut off that line of discussion before it got out of hand. “Never mind all that. You… you put the towel on your _head?_ ”

“Well… yeah.”

“I see.”

“And then things started getting really weird. There was this one guy who just started grunting at me. He’d point at his head, and then uh… point at his crotch.” Sidra mimicked the action as best she could. “And I tried to… you know… tell him I wasn’t interested. Gently, of course. As gently as I could. ‘Uh, no thank you. That… just no thank you.’ But he wouldn’t leave it alone. He just kept pointing at his head and then at his groin, and I just… well… I was confused.”

Ysolda buried her face in the palm of her hand. She already knew how this story was going to end. “How long did it take you to figure out you were supposed to use the towel to cover up your womanhood?”

“Too long,” Lydia growled. “She got us thrown out. And they’re debating whether they’ll ever allow us back.” She muttered a few choice words under her breath. “Also, half of Whiterun now knows what your wife’s lady-garden looks like.”

Ysolda sighed in exasperation. “We’ll have to move. I hear Markarth is nice this time of year.”


End file.
